


'Under Me You Quite So New'

by alisvolatpropiis



Series: Sterek: PWP [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, Derek Hale's fluid sexuality, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Queer Het, Rimming, Squirting, Stiles gets a magic vagina, Versatile Derek Hale, Versatile Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/pseuds/alisvolatpropiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you…do you still want me, like this?” Stiles pets nervously at Derek's pecs, watching his unfamiliar hand tangle in his chest hair, resting his palm over his heart.</p><p>Derek’s looking at him in that way he has, the way that usually makes Stiles’ cock twitch and quiver, but now he just feels…a warmth, a tickling, a pooling between his legs, newly formed flesh starting to come alive in <em>very</em> interesting ways.                                             </p><p>Eyes dark and wide, Derek still looks a little dazed; he nods, licking his lips. “Yeah,” he finally huffs, gaze trailing again down Stiles’ temporary new body. “How long did Deaton say this would last,” he asks, fingertips feather light down his curved side.</p><p>Stiles shivers at the touch, arching and bowing towards him, as usual. “About six hours,” he breathes, gasping softly at how the nipples of his sensitive breasts tighten and firm up under Derek’s exploring hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Under Me You Quite So New'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annabeth Crestfallen (Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/gifts).



> *The delightful and talented [annabethlemorte](http://annabethlemorte.tumblr.com/) is to thank for this; she suggested a temporary 'magic vageen' when I told her I didn't think I could successfully write a femStiles fic. So here's Stiles spelled by a witch with the aforementioned magic vageen. 
> 
> *If queer vagina/penis sex is not your thing, this is not the fic you're looking for. I won't be offended if you panic moonwalk away. 
> 
> *Heads up for use of the c-word (NOT as an insult.)
> 
> *A note on pronouns: Stiles gets a female body for a while, but that doesn't change his gender identity, so he's still 'he.'
> 
> *This is part of my Sterek PWP series, but as PWP, you def do not need to read the previous works to follow this one.
> 
> *Tile is from e.e. cumming's "i like my body," the full text of which you can find below after the fic.
> 
> *In addition to (kinda) het sex, which I rarely write, I also tried out shifting POV in this for the first time. The shifts are clearly marked and I worked really hard to make sure it's not repetitive, so hopefully it works.
> 
> *A million thank yous and hugs to Annabeth (you naughty minx) and the rest of the [Sterek Writers Network](http://sterekwriters.tumblr.com/) for their support and general awesomeness. Follow the network and the writers on Tumblr for all kinds of Stereky goodness!
> 
> *And thank you, dear reader, for reading. I'm excited to see what y'all think!

“Do you…do you still want me, like this?” Stiles pets nervously at Derek's pecs, watching his unfamiliar hand tangle in his chest hair, resting his palm over his heart. 

Derek’s looking at him in that way he has, the way that usually makes Stiles’ cock twitch and quiver, but now he just feels…a warmth, a tickling, a pooling between his legs, newly formed flesh starting to come alive in _very_ interesting ways.  

Eyes dark and wide, Derek still looks a little dazed; he nods, licking his lips. “Yeah,” he finally huffs, gaze trailing again down Stiles’ temporary new body. “How long did Deaton say this would last,” he asks, fingertips feather light down his curved side.

Stiles shivers at the touch, arching and bowing towards him, as usual. “About six hours,” he breathes, gasping softly at how the nipples of his sensitive breasts tighten and firm up under Derek’s exploring hand. 

What they thought had been a brief, albeit tense, encounter with a witch in the Preserve turned out to be a delayed shapeshifting spell. After they chased her out of town, they had come back to the house and taken a shower together, during which Stiles had his second near-injury of the night, almost braining himself on the tile when Derek was on his knees behind him, tongue buried in his ass.

Then Stiles got Derek on all fours on their giant bed, fingered him until he was practically gaping, begging for his cock. Stiles fucked him sweet and slow, marveling at how Derek let himself be taken apart, falling over his beautiful broad back to lick and suck at his shoulders, Derek’s ass rising up to meet his rolling hips. They crashed to the bed in a heap afterwards, sticky bodies woven together, falling asleep quickly.

And then, a few hours later, just past midnight, Stiles awoke with a start from a heavy sleep to discover that he had breasts. And a vagina. His body had magically reshaped itself, transforming him temporarily into a woman from the neck down. 

“How do you feel,” Derek whispers into his armpit, still furred with dark hair, but less of it, smoother and shinier too.

There are both too many and not enough words rushing through his brain to describe how he feels. “Tingly,” he decides, finally scooting closer to Derek, whose cock is starting to press against the gentle swell of his new hip, velvety and smooth. Stiles has never been with a woman, has barely even kissed a woman, having figured out pretty early on in life that he’s pretty exclusively into guys. He appreciates women’s bodies, finds them beautiful, but he’s never been up close and personal with a woman, really has no frame of reference for how he feels, other than _good_ and _hot_ and _touch me Derek_ , which isn’t all that different from what he’s used to. It’s dizzying and disorientating, an uncanny blend of the familiar and not, but Derek is close, touching him, whispering that it’s going to be okay and that he’s still beautiful, and Stiles believes him, lets himself feel good.

His initial, brief freak out was followed by a lot of open-mouthed staring into the bathroom mirror. His tits are great, if he does say so himself (and he did – multiple times. Derek agreed). They’re heavy and round, nipples bigger than his own, darker too. His new ass is almost as bubbly and cute as Derek’s, and he doesn’t have an hourglass figure or anything, but he definitely has decidedly feminine hips flaring out from his still-narrow waist. His slightly rounded, soft belly is hairless, falling prettily into the V of dark hair between his slender, shapely legs.

“Dude,” he had said, smirking and twisting his neck and still lightly stubbled face back to check out his ass out in the mirror again, hands – still long and narrow, but girlish now, with clipped, delicate nails – cupping his fantastic breasts. “I’m a total babe.”

Derek was still naked too, standing at the bathroom door, eyes wide as he watched him, confusion and worry and maybe even lust in his sleepy features. “You’ve always been a babe,” he had said very seriously, dialing Deaton’s number.

**~*~*~**

“Six hours, huh,” Derek pants, nuzzling into Stiles’ neck. He breathes in deep, searching for a change in his mate’s scent. It’s subtle, but it’s there, Stiles’ warm cinnamon smell now swirled softly with citrus. The smell of his arousal is different too, sweeter.

It still makes his mouth water, still makes him want to taste.

“And Deaton said that it'll wear off on its own and you’ll be okay?” He’s asked him at least three times already, but he’s got to be sure. They’ve been magicked and mojoed and fucked over enough to be cautious.

“Der, babe, _yes_. Deaton says he’s seen it before with this witch, even knew her name and the exact spell she used. It’s like, her go-to trick. He said she did it to him once. Then he got distracted and started talking about your mom –"

“Oh my god, shut up.” Derek’s accepted the fact that his mother had a long-time affair with the emissary throughout his childhood, but he doesn’t need to hear specifics. Words are never enough for Stiles though, so he reaches up to kiss him before he can keep talking, putting that devious tongue to much better use.

Derek responds to Stiles' new body just like he responds to his regular one: with a bone-deep instinct to put his on hands on him, to marvel in his beauty, to love every inch of his mate with everything he has, to hold him tight and make him feel loved, protected, wanted. He leans into the kiss and intertwines their legs, hand settling on the new arc of his hip. The body under his hands, pressed against his, is different, so different from the body he long ago memorized, but he still feels like he knows it, like it was still made to fit perfectly against his. His curves are softer, more rounded than the sharp planes of Stiles’ bony hips and straight waist that he knows well, but his skin feels the same, soft, responsive to the barest hint of a touch.

Derek pulls away from the kiss, watches his dark eyes and runs his hand back around his hip and down to his ass, a gentle squeeze, the small globe shaped to fit his palm. Stiles jolts a little at the touch, shuddering.

“You’re anxious,” Derek says quietly, settling back and rolling Stiles towards him so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. 

“Yeah, a little. But mostly relieved now that I see how, uh, excited you are.” Stiles hooks slender pale leg over his hip gets a delicate hand around his cock, familiar-but-new fingers teasing at his foreskin the way the know drives Derek crazy. “I was worried,” Stiles goes on, a little breathy now, eyes locked on his mouth. Derek wants to ask why, wants to respond, but Stiles is cupping his balls with his other hand now, gently rolling them in his palm, taking away his words. “I was worried that you wouldn’t want me like this. But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, is it?” He punctuates the question with a naughty twist and swirl of his fingers, drawing a small bead of precome from him.

Derek groans, forcing himself free from his daze just in time, was about to let himself fall over the edge, give in and let Stiles bring him off just like that. Fuck, he wants that, wants to paint that dark V of hair with his come, wants to make Stiles’ new body, however temporary, all his.

But Derek can wait; he wants to make Stiles come over and over again first, to make him feel good even more than he wants his own release. “Stiles, you know I’ve been with women, that I find women attractive,” he tells him. He supposes he could be called bisexual, more accurately pan, probably, but he doesn’t really like to label himself anything. He’s always just liked who he's liked.

And he likes Stiles. Loves Stiles more than he ever thought possible, more than he ever thought he was capable of loving anyone, even if they weren't mates, even back when he thought mates were an old wolf's tale. And he _wants_ Stiles, needs his body like breathing, no matter what he looks like or what shape he’s taken, supernatural or otherwise.

Stiles seems relaxed and content now, but there’s still that hint of hesitation in his voice, the slight tension at his mouth that tells Derek he’s still worried. “Hey,” he whispers, catching his jaw in his hand, forcing his eyes to his. “You know I love you, know I’ll want you, always and forever, no matter what.” It still makes his heart race, even after all this time, to tell him that he loves him, the truth of it resonating deep. 

“I love you too, big guy.” Stiles smiles into a kiss. “I know you’ve been with women. You know I haven’t. This is –” he gestures down his body – “uh, all very new to me…obviously. And I have it on good authority that you really like my manly bits, so…”

“I do,” Derek laughs, scooting down the bed a bit to kiss down his throat. “Very much. Love every inch of your manly bits almost as much as I love you. In fact, before I asked you to move in, I consulted Deaton about magically detaching your dick for me to keep in a drawer, because that’s really all I like about you, can’t actually stand you as a person.”

Stiles kicks ineffectually at his shin. “You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re ridiculous for thinking I wouldn’t want you, under any circumstances, ever.”

Whatever adorably obnoxious retort Stiles has is lost in the strangled moan he chokes out when Derek slides his hand up over his ribs and cups one of his magnificent tits, thumbing over the pert, tight nipple. It’s still a little strange, his softer, curvier body, heavier in some places but lighter in others. Derek’s adapting quickly, though, easily, his love for Stiles boundless, about so much more than bodies.

But Derek loves his body too, loves how he knows exactly what shape Stiles’ mouth will take when he presses a hand to the small of his back, how his eyelids flutter, fast like hummingbird wings, when he slides his fingertips up and down his spine, breath hot on his neck, wants to know if he’ll respond the same way in this form. When Stiles was inspecting himself in the bathroom mirror Derek noted how the pattern of moles on his back is the same treasure map he knows by heart; he wants to see if the paths he traces amongst them with his tongue taste the same.

He wants to see how gorgeous Stiles is when he comes in this new shape.

“I wanna make you feel good,” Derek murmurs, licking at the blossom of arousal that spreads across Stiles’ skin. He’s kneading softly at his breast, hungry for the little moan he aches out when he bows into the touch. “Do you want that, baby? Do you want me to show you how good you can feel in this body, show you how to use that pretty cunt?”

Stiles mewls a whiny little yes, and Derek growls in response, knows his eyes flash red, smiles at how Stiles rolls his own eyes back at him, nothing but loving devotion in the well-worn gesture. Derek pushes him onto his back and settles himself easily in the cradle of his hips, shifting a little more than usual to adjust to the deeper basin of his spread thighs. He rests on his elbows, taking in the perfect spheres of his tits; he wants to feel them pressed against his chest, bouncing as he ruts and humps. Fuck, he can smell how wet he’s getting, Stiles' cuntslick is musky like his come, but honeyed too, something new but just as delicious. He's dying to taste him, to coat his tongue in that thick wetness.

He gets his mouth on those tits first though, clutching at his bowing back as he nibbles on an extraordinary nipple. He loses track of time for awhile, lavishing careful attention to each perfect globe, trying to memorize every sound Stiles makes when he suckles him, pulling his nipples taut before releasing, grinning at how they slowly reshape themselves into hard little peaks. Derek buries his face between them, sucking in a powerful breath and nuzzling his beard into his tender skin, hands pressing his ample warmth against his face, smothering himself in the soft flesh. When he pulls back the pale skin between Stiles’ breasts is red with beard burn and there’s a crescent-shaped scatter of small hickies around his worked nipples. Derek smiles proudly. “Your tits are incredible,” he tells him, hopes he believes it, hopes it makes him feel good. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He pulls Stiles’ hands from his hair and moves them so he’s cupping his tits, pressing them together. Derek licks a sloppy line into the cleave, looking up to watch Stiles smiling at him beatifically. “I might have to have you hold them tight like this so I can slide my cock between them. Would you like that, Stiles? Want me to fuck your tits, come all over them?” Derek’s dizzy, panting, hard as a rock. Stiles always gets him like this, always lights him up and makes his chest constrict and flutter, enlivens his heart and body the way only he can. There’s a new edge now though, an aura hanging over them like the first time, each touch a new flashpoint of discovery. 

Stiles mumbles an assent and snaps his hips up, his damp heat ghosting towards Derek's cock, heavy and flushed between them. “Derek,” he whimpers.

“What do you want, gorgeous?”

“Everything…you.”

~*~*~

“God, I can _smell_ how wet you are,” Derek chokes, scruff rustling against the soft plane of his lower belly, nose buried in his strangely hairless navel. He trails down, tongue soft, sucking a small constellation of marks into his pale skin before diving further down to tangle his beard in the soft V of hair leading to his swelling pussy. “You’re fucking _dripping_ ,” he pants, breath hot and wet, voice raspy. He spreads Stiles’ thighs wide, sits back to watch as he opens up beneath him.

Stiles gasps as the small rush of air that slips into him, squirming at the sensation. “Is, uh, that a good thing,” he manages to choke out, twitching again at how… _lush_ …he feels, dense and thick with slick, this version of his body responding to Derek’s just as vividly as the one they’re both used to, but in different registers, new twitches and quivers and shakes.

“Fuck, baby, that’s a _very_ good thing,” Derek grunts. “You’re gonna take me so good. Gonna drown my cock in your wet cunt.”

“Derek, fuck,” he moans, sounding pitiful to his own ears. The simmering warmth under his skin his familiar, but the source of it feels different, feels like throbbing, waving pulses of slow-burning heat from deeper within him than he’s ever felt. Fuck, he can’t wait to come like this, can’t wait to feel what’s it’s like to clench around Derek’s perfect dick with this new hole. “Need you to fuck me,” he begs, clenching, thrusting his girlish hips upward into Derek’s jaw.

“Yeah, baby, I’m going to fuck you.” The words are a bit of a jumble, lost in the folds of his pussy that Derek’s nosing gently. Stiles is starting to tremble; he needs and wants so much more; he doesn’t really know what it’s going to feel like or how to get it but he _wants, needs_ Derek to give it to him, to show him how. Derek pulls his face away, looks back up at him. “But first,” he says, resolute, voice clearer. “First, you’re going to come at least twice,” he declares, sliding two fingers into him easily. 

Maybe he says “oh god” or “oh Derek”; it’s hard to tell through his groan, through the explosion of feeling. Derek just smiles and starts to slowly fuck him with his fingers, eyes laser focused on his face, making him blush with even more heat. He clenches around Derek’s fingers experimentally, sparks of pleasure rumbling through his belly, surprising them both with how strong his muscles are.

“You gonna squeeze my cock like that,” Derek asks, nibbling into the crease of his thigh.

Stiles nods wildly, babbles incoherently, tries to shut his mouth because he lives to hear Derek like this, giving in to his desires, voice throaty and deep, making even the filthiest of promises sound sweet, full of love. “Yeah you are, my good boy. Gonna fill this tight wet hole up, gonna get your pretty pussy all messy with my come.” Derek reaches over to clutch at where he’s twisting his hand into the sheets, pulls it towards his mouth, licking it wet before wrapping it with his two of his and slipping them back in, his fleshy opening accommodating three fingers with sliding ease.

Stiles bites his lip, eyes rolling back as he tries to process the fact that he’s fingering his pussy, that’s he’s so damn wet, that he’s feeling himself from the inside out, that Derek's helping him explore. He’s silky inside, inner walls spongy but firm, blistering hot. Derek crooks their fingers so they’re rounding up, towards where he's pressing a soft kiss in his hair. Just underneath Derek’s mouth, inside of him, their fingers rub a hard, hot bump, a node of nerves, and Stiles yelps in surprise, flailing against the mattress and the sudden, disorienting contractions in his gut, his pussy, his ass. “That’s your g-spot,” Derek informs him with a sly, proud grin, tonguing over to suck another hickey, this one right on his hip bone, teasing at the spot until Stiles is a panting mess. 

He grunts and groans, rocks his hips and shifts down on the bed, trying to get more… _something_. Their fingers feel good, make him feel full but not filled up, only make him hungrier for more. For what, he's not exactly sure.

Derek draws their fingers out, grinning deviously at the squelching sound his damp body makes. His gorgeous green-gold eyes go even darker with lust as he stares at where he's using the thumb and the forefinger of his other hand to spread his folds, moving Stiles’ finger up, placing it on the crescent of hard tissue nestled there that’s been throbbing for awhile now.

Stiles lights up at the touch, body exploding from the center with a wild, hot spasm of pleasure that ripples out in every direction, curling him up, stomach clenching, free hand pulling hard at Derek’s hair.

“That’s your clit,” Derek whispers, still grinning wickedly, letting Stiles’ hand fall away. He slips three fingers inside of him, wetting them, before moving back up, easing into a steady stroke. His clit seems to get harder, thicker, as Derek pets at it and he's fairly certain he’s starting to leak onto the sheets, the heat coiling behind his knees, up the backs of his thighs, hips starting grind against Derek’s hand, seeking. “God, you’re so pretty,” he whines, sounding a little broken. “Your pussy is just as gorgeous as your cock.”

“You think it tastes the same,” Stiles teases, not sure where his bravado is coming from, so close to wrecked as he his. Must be the way Derek is staring at him, hungry and needy and loving, breathtaking and beautiful.

“I hope so,” Derek answers, licking his lips.

“Fuck, Der, come on,” he whines, bravado all but gone now, getting desperate.

“What do you want, Stiles? Tell me. What do you want me to do you?”

“Derek, please, I want you to eat my pussy. _Please_.” 

“That’s a good boy,” Derek purrs, diving in.

**~*~*~**

Explosive bubbles of arousal snap across his tongue when he starts to slowly lick his full, elegant folds, his moan at the taste rivaling the sound of Stiles’ aching cry, the concentrated vibrant bursts of sweet, musky Stiles intoxicating him.

He nearly weeps when he sees, nestled there under his silky pubic hair, the small, perfectly round mole that’s usually on the base of Stiles’ gorgeous cock.

Derek spreads him with his fingers, licks slowly up the ridge of his hard, pink clit with the tip of his tongue, watching his face carefully. Stiles is so lovely like this, mouth slack and eyes fluttering, giving in to his pleasure. He’s babbling through punchy little breaths, and this close, when Derek looks back down, he can see his hole twitch and quiver. “You like that,” he whispers, lips brushing over neat line of hair that borders his outermost fold. “Do you want more?”

Stiles nods, grunts out a yes.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this, but he remembers how, loves giving pleasure with his mouth. His cock is starting to throb a bit, leaking onto the sheets of their bed. He plans to make the most of the next six hours to show Stiles how good he can feel in this body, and even though he’s still sated from the thorough fucking Stiles gave him earlier, he’s aching to come again, probably won’t be able to hold back once Stiles starts writhing and shaking beneath him.

He licks him harder now, pressing his tongue flat against him and wiggling it a bit from side to side, lapping up with a few heavy strokes before doing it all over again, and again and again. Stiles is dripping freely now, squirming and muttering obscenities, hands twisted in Derek’s hair, pushing him harder against him. “Do you want more?” he asks again, voice husky and raw.

“Derek, fuck, yes, give me more. Make me come like this, please, baby, I need it. I wanna come on your mouth.”

“Fuck,” he pants, closing his eyes, trying to steady himself. He should know better by now; every time he sets out to wreck Stiles, he always gets wrecked right back.

Derek splays his hands across the pale, thin skin of his smooth thighs, holding him open so he can burrow deeper. He nearly comes untouched when he slips his tongue inside, the taste and scent of him exhilarating and potent here at the source. He can’t get very deep, but he fucks him anyway, twisting and darting his tongue in and out, lapping him up.

He holds him down, presses bruising circles into his thighs, returns his clit, tongue thick and sticky now. He’s starting to lose control a bit, losing finesse as he presses his face harder into him, lips and chin and nose giving Stiles the pressure and friction he needs. He pulls back a bit finally, both of them panting, Stiles’ hips thrusting in jerky spasms. “Derek,” he whines pleading.

He slides two fingers inside of him, crooking them up and petting at his g-spot with a come hither wave, falling forward again to get his mouth on him, suckling greedily on his clit. Stiles cries out and flails against the bed when he comes, gasping moans shaking through him, body clenching and spasming around Derek’s fingers. Derek’s mouth floods with the flavor of his mate’s pleasure, hot and thick, his wolf preening at the taste, at Stiles’ ecstatic cries.

He pulls his mouth away when Stiles tugs at his hair, fallen mostly still but still trembling with the aftershocks, so Derek keeps at it, keeps his fingers in him, rubs more persistently at the hard bundle on fleshy nerves on his innermost wall, circular little presses. Stiles starts scrambling and squirming, sits up on his elbows to look down at him, wide eyed and fucked out, hair a mess and lips bright. His nipples are still rock hard, and fuck, his tits look nice when he sits up like that. He can’t wait to mark them up with his come.

But first, he wants to see if…fuck, yes, he knew it. A few more confident strokes to his g-spot and Stiles is coming again, maybe still, gripping tight at the sheets as he rocks his hips, tits bouncing. Stiles groans deep and loud, body stilling for a long moment in a stunning, arcing bow of pleasure, and then Derek feels a hot, quick spray against his cheek, eyes flashing in response.

“Oh my god,” Stiles is panting, falling back and trying to squirm away, like he’s embarrassed “Fuck, that was…was that okay?” 

Derek doesn’t answer, lust-crazed as he his, wolf going insane, fucking preening because _he just made_ _Stiles’ magical cunt squirt_ , because his face is probably shining with his juice. He grabs him by the ankles and hauls him down the bed with a quick tug, falling forward to kiss him, to lick into his mouth so Stiles can taste his pussy. When he’s kissed the embarrassment off his face he rises up, straddling his hips.

“Play with your tits,” he commands gently, reaching between Stiles’ legs to gather a gush of his slick on his fingers. Stiles hisses a bit at the touch, still sensitive, but arches his hips into him anyways. He lifts his hands to cup at his breasts, squeezing and pulling at his nipples. 

Derek spreads his wet fingers over his cock, eyes rolling back and groaning at finally getting some much-needed friction. He wastes no time getting a rhythm, jacking himself quickly while Stiles watches, small grin playing at his mouth. He moves down the bed a bit more, adjusting himself underneath Derek’s splayed legs.

“Here,” he murmurs, pulling Derek’s hands away from his dick and placing them on his tits, squeezing them around his cock, their clutching hands making a soft and warm crevice for him to fuck into.

“Stiles, fuck,” he mumbles, already lowering himself and beginning to thrust, wet cock sliding easily in between the hot, fleshy mounds. It’s not tight like a hole or a fist, but it’s good, so good, and Stiles is watching him those wide, eager eyes that always undo him.

His orgasm races through him, hot like burning, first burst of white shooting hard onto the bottom of Stiles’ chin, Derek crying out in a heavy groan, Stiles smiling. “Yeah, that’s it...fuck...love it when you come all over me, baby." Derek pulls back in time for the rest of his load to spill all over his tits, fucking thrilled about that because wants to see them _covered_ , wants to taste those hard dark nipples when they’re dripping with his thick come.

They’re even more delicious.

**~*~*~**

Stiles feels both more solidly within this new body and more fully detached from it after coming so hard, overwhelmed with how every newly discovered nerve lit him up from the inside out, mind dazed in the pleasant familiar fog of a spectacular orgasm. He’s used to Derek reducing him to a babbling, incoherent mess with his mouth, but this was something else, just as intense, familiar but still wholly new, the cresting waves of smoldering heat pooling and coiling in that well deep within him that he’s never felt before. And hell, he didn’t even _know_ about… _squirting_ , but fuck it felt _good_ , felt fucking incredible, seeing how _pleased_ Derek looked, still looks.

Stiles isn’t sure how long it’s been since he came, since Derek fucked his tits and then licked his mess clean, not that long he thinks, but that’s not stopping Derek from resting back against the headboard in a nest of pillows, pulling Stiles on top of him until he’s got a knee on either side of Derek’s muscled torso, big hands holding on tight to his feminine hips.

From there it’s easy to fall into a slow, languid kiss, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and using his solid strength for leverage to hitch himself closer, gasping into his mouth when the movement sends a rush of heat up his spine, his splayed cunt rubbing across the ridged plane of Derek’s abs.

Struck with a powerful urge to see him, Stiles pulls back from the kiss, lets his elbows slide down his chest so he can cradle his exquisite face in his softer, smaller hands, takes a moment to anchor himself in Derek's gaze, his eyes radiant, the whites a little bloodshot, pupils big and round, wreathed by rings of green that had glowed a luminous red when he came. His beard is still wet and shiny from being buried in his dewy cunt. Stiles licks at his face, tentative at first, tasting himself, basking in the infinite love he feels for this man. Derek’s practically purring under his ministrations, eyes flitting closed, bucking up to rub his stomach against him again, insistent.

“Can you go again already,” Stiles mumbles into Derek’s hair, slightly damp with sweat. His werewolf refractory period has been a gift to their sex life and sure, Stiles doesn’t fully understand how time works rights now, but he’s fairly certain it’s too soon for Derek to be hard again.

“Not yet,” he answers, hands reaching back to clutch at his ass, squeezing. “But you can.”

Stiles rolls his hips, grinds down harder, breath catching in his throat. He’s sensitive still, but there’s no denying the way the warmth is starting to pool again, that he’s starting to slide against Derek’s stomach easier the more he moves, spreading his juices into the thick stripe of dark hair that runs from his belly button down to his stunningly perfect, uncut cock. He could come just like this, grinding on Derek’s abs, pussy still swollen from his last orgasm. “Fuck, I think you’re right,” he pants, marveling.

Derek’s smile is downright naughty when he tangles their fingers together, bringing them to his mouth, pushing two of Stiles’ in, slobbering messily. He guides Stiles’ hand down, pushes it gently between their slick bodies. “Touch yourself,” he orders, leaning back into the pillows and stretching his arms back, clasping his hands behind his head.

Stiles smiles, should have expected this. Derek loves watching him jack off, loves leaning back like he is now, getting comfortable to enjoy the show. And Stiles loves being watched, loves losing himself in the sole pursuit of his pleasure while Derek takes it all in with this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

Stiles keeps his eyes locked on his as he rises on his knees a bit, fingers slipping in easily, slide out easily too as adjusts himself, finds his clit and begins teasing exploring, little circles of increasing pressure as he grinds down on Derek. “That’s it,” he encourages, eyes roaming from his mouth down to where his hand is working steadily. He moves quickly, sitting up and getting his hands back on waist, helping him grind down harder. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yeah…oh god, Derek, fuck, this feels so good. You feel so good.” He throws his head back, baring his throat, hips starting to buck harder, hand moving faster as the tingling heat starts to crescendo. Derek’s teeth, just the barest hint of fangs, scrape lightly across his neck before he ducks down and takes a nipple between his lips, tongue flicking across the tip before he starts sucking, hard and eager. The pulses of heat surge through him and combust along his spine, surging in waves from his clit, body flailing and thrusting, seeking more and more friction, more heat, more Derek, more everything, needing to make it last, to keep this electric pulse alive as long as he possibly can.

It tapers off eventually, Derek’s head cradled against his breasts as he pants and comes back to himself, throat raw. He pulls his hand away and Derek snags it immediately, shoves his fingers in his mouth.

“You ready for me to fuck you,” he asks when he’s had his fill of sucking them clean. “Ready to have that tight pussy filled up?”

Stiles answers by rising up and scooting back, reaching for Derek’s cock, now fully hard again lining them up. He sinks down slowly, eyes locked on Derek’s as he stretches and opens with ease, sinking down to the root in a slick rush, body molding itself to fit perfectly around Derek's cock. Like every part of this surreal but weirdly perfect night, it’s both familiar and not, being filled up by Derek, so full he feels like, he’s going to burst but still wants more, wants to keep Derek inside of him forever.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps, hands clasping at the back of Derek’s neck. “Love your cock, baby,” he mewls, unable to stop himself. Neither of them have moved yet, both of them just clutching on to each other, eyes wide and dazed.

Derek shudders and shakes, brushes his beard up his neck. “You’re always so good for me,” he whines, like he can’t believe it.

“Love being good for you,” he mumbles, rolling his hips. The movement presses his Derek’s cock harder into his tight heat, sends a jolt of pleasure through his clit. Derek snarls, encouraging. Stiles does it again and again, stumbling a bit to find a rhythm but once he does they both get lost in the steady rollicking, Stiles grinding his clit against him with shameless need. He breaks his pace every once in awhile to rise up until Derek is almost all the way out of him, big cockhead kissing his dripping slit, just hovering there on the precipice for a moment before plunging back down, trying to see how deep he can get him, Derek’s eyes impossibly wide, glowing red embers.

After a while, when he feels likes he’s on the verge of exploding again, Stiles stops, breasts rising and falling with his panting breaths, Derek still buried deep, waiting for Derek to stop kissing across his collarbones, murmuring loving praise. “Hold still,” he says finally. “Want to try something.” Derek holds his stare and does as Stiles says, body going rigid. Slowly, closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and when he exhales, clenches his muscles as hard as he can, squeezing around Derek’s thick girth. 

Derek’s gasping sob is a gift. “That feel good,” Stiles asks, squeezing again, pressing their foreheads together.

Derek nods, bites his mouth into a bruising kiss.

“Yeah,” Stiles goes on, clenching again, adding a roll of his hips, feeling more confident as Derek starts to tremble beneath him. “You like that? You like my tight little cunt squeezing your cock the way my ass always does for you?” It’s exhilarating, this new feeling, a different kind of power but earth-shattering all the same, the way this body swallows Derek up and holds him tight, still makes him fall to pieces. 

“Fuck, Stiles.” Derek thrusts up into him, hands gripping his hips. His mouth finds a nipple again, resuming his voracious suckling, and Stiles can’t tease or draw it out anymore, can’t stop the rolling of his hips or his rushed, energetic clenching. He moves faster and faster, riding Derek’s cock fast and hard, jumbled mess of moans and declarations of love tumbling from his mouth.

Derek gets his strong arms around his waist, grips him tight and flips them in a practiced, easy move, flinging Stiles onto his back, staying snug tight inside of him, pressing his legs wide apart. Stiles feels wrecked and raw, each thrust a small of explosion of heat and pleasure that threatens push him off the edge, Derek mouthing at his neck, breath hot and sticky against his skin. Stiles scratches his nails down his back, gets two good handfuls of his glorious ass and pulls him in harder, deeper. The fingers of one hand slide between his cheeks, his asshole still a little wet from earlier. Stiles slips a finger in, drinking up Derek’s ecstatic cry.

Derek bites into the tender flesh of his breast when he comes in a powerful tremor, shaking Stiles from the inside out, adding to the heat in his core with powerful gushes of come. “That’s it,” Stiles pants into his neck, voice shaking. “Fill my cunt up, make it yours, just like my ass.” Derek’s still moaning; it’s loud and beautiful and echoes with the intensity of his pleasure, his hips still pistoning, rutting into him mercilessly, ass clenching at Stiles' finger, only stopping at Stiles’ exhausting orgasm. He's slick with sweat as he clenches around his cock, nails digging into his skin, roiling waves of pleasure licking through him like a flame, body going blessedly rigid and then limp, Derek holding him tight, as usual.

**~*~*~**

When he wakes, Derek is on his back, one of Stiles’ long arms tossed across his stomach. He knows before he opens his eyes that Stiles’ has his body back; the hint of sweet-citrus is gone from his scent, although it’s still in their sheets and in Derek’s mouth. The hand clutching at his hip has the long, bony fingers he knows so well, and the chest pressing against his arm is flat, small patch of coarse dark hair rubbing into his bicep.

He opens his eyes to the familiar, heart-stopping beauty of Stiles’ face, slack and soft in sleep, mouth slightly open. The rectangle of sunlight spilling across the bed at their feet tells him that it’s late morning, close to midday.

Derek’s body is pleasantly sore all over, twinges a bit when he rolls to his side, gently pushing Stiles on to his back so he can reacquaint himself with his mate’s manly form, his wolf delighted to see that his marks are still prettying up his pale skin. He licks the crescent of shallow red teeth marks around his nipple, thumbs his hand over the ovals of bruises on his hip, gentle curve reshaped into the straight hard line of Stiles’ narrow waist.

It does something to him, to his wolf, his heart, to see that the evidence of their lovemaking is still on him even now that the spell has worn off, makes it more real, more perfect somehow. He kisses down his chest, licks up the dried flecks of come still painting his skin, murmuring a sleepy hello when Stiles flutters his eyes open and says his name. “Everything back where it’s supposed to be,” he asks in a mumble, hand finding Derek’s hair.

Derek enfolds him in a hug, getting his arms around his waist and holding on tight, nuzzling into his hairy belly button, Stiles’ half-hard cock nestling into the crook of his neck. “I think so,” he grins. “But I should probably take a closer look, just to be sure.” He noses down to kiss at the perfect little beauty mark at the base of his cock, smiling. "Hey there, big guy."

 

* * *

 

_i like my body when it is with your_  
 _body.  It is so quite a new thing._  
 _Muscles better and nerves more._  
 _i like your body.  i like what it does,_  
 _i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine_  
 _of your body and its bones, and the trembling_  
 _-firm-smooth ness and which I will_  
 _again and again and again_  
 _kiss,  i like kissing this and that of you,_  
 _i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz_  
 _of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes_  
 _over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,_  
  
 _and possibly i like the thrill_

_of under me you quite so new_

 

-e.e. cummings, 1925

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [deleted-scenes](http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr - come hang out and obsess over Teen Wolf and Sterek and Dylan O'Brien's scruff and Tyler Hoechlin's everything.


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